


The Truth

by imusuallyobsessed



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Felicity finds out about William, Hurt/Comfort, olicity - Freeform, post 4x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imusuallyobsessed/pseuds/imusuallyobsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity finds out the truth about William.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Have some angst! This is set in some hazy post 4x09 future when Felicity is home from the hospital. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it just came pouring out of me today and I had to post it.

Felicity was very respectful of her fiancés privacy. Sure, she hacked into his high school records and dug into those gossip sites and found all his dirty secrets (for the purpose of being the only one who has any access to them, of course), but she stopped doing that a while ago. She trusts Oliver implicitly. But, his phone _won’t stop ringing_ and she’s already got a pounding headache.

It’s not even been a week since she came home from the hospital. There had been punctured lungs, broken ribs, and it had been really touch-and-go with some of her thoracic vertebrae for a while. She refused to think about the rest of the damage, the _We’re so sorry, Miss Smoak. Your uterus and Fallopian tubes were damaged._ There was no point in dwelling on that. It wasn’t going to fix anything. She was alive, breathing, and she wasn’t paralyzed. That was enough.

But, she was tired. She’d been in the lair all day after bullying Oliver into letting her go down there. She sat the whole time and didn’t pull on any of her stitches. She still ached and her ribs weren’t happy with her, but now she was lying on the couch, nursing a headache. It had been the longest day she’d had since getting out of the hospital, and she was ready for bed.

Oliver’s phone wouldn’t _stop ringing._

He was in the shower, so she answered it. She didn’t bother to check the caller ID. Most people who had his number knew who she was.

“Hello, Oliver Queen’s very tired and awesome fiancée speaking.”

There was silence on the other end for a brief moment before a tentative, _young_ voice politely said, “Hello, Miss. My name is William Clayton. Can I talk to my dad, please?”

Felicity’s stomach felt like it dropped out of her body, through the floor, and all the way to the ground below the building. She sat up quickly, wincing as her ribs protested and her stitches pulled, but that barely registered compared to the storm in her mind.

_Dad? Dad?!_

“Uh… Um… He’s just… In the shower, but – “

“Hon? Who’s that?”

Oliver had come out of the shower. There was a towel slung around his waist and a smile on his face, and normally Felicity wouldn’t have been able to resist the abs or the glistening or the playful look in his eyes, but this wasn’t _normally._

She turned to him, the phone on her chest, and his face dropped. Oliver could read the tragedy in her eyes. “It’s your son,” she said, holding the phone out to him, biting her lip and breathing sharply to keep the tears in her eyes.

He opened his mouth without taking the phone, his heart in his eyes, but Felicity interrupted. “It sounds really important.”

In the end, Oliver took the phone. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?” he asked. Felicity choked back more tears, relishing the burn in her throat and eyes and the aching of her ribs and sting of pulling stitches. If she was feeling all that, holding all that in, she didn’t have to feel the betrayal or the hurt. If she felt all that, she didn’t have the capacity to cry.

“You’re… _What?_ … No, of course, of course I’ll come get you … Thirty minutes? Yeah, I’ll be there … Ok, see ya soon,” he said, hanging up. His tone was totally different with William. Different than Felicity had ever heard before. It was soft, warm, and full of all-encompassing, unconditional love. While he spoke, he hurried around the loft putting on clothes and grabbing his wallet and her car keys

He hung up the phone, turning sorrowful, reluctant eyes to Felicity who was still sitting on the couch. Her posture was stiff and he could read the pain in her eyes. It was a mix of physical and emotional, but her arms were wrapped firmly around her torso like she’d fly apart if they weren’t and he could tell that she didn’t want his comfort right now.

“He… He found out I’m his father. He ran away from Central City and is gonna be at Star City Train Station in thirty minutes. I have to - ”

“Go get your son, Oliver,” Felicity said, her voice as stiff as her posture.

He was at the door, looking like he very much wanted to stay and explain everything, but his son was waiting. _His son. His child. What you can never give him._

She shooed those thoughts away. They made the tears prickle more strongly and she _would not cry_ in front of him. Not right now.

He bit his lip, his big puppy eyes on hers. “Will you… still be here when I get back?” he asked, like he’d rather be asking any other question but that one. Like he was afraid of the answer.

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Out of the two of us, I’m not the one with a history of running away from my problems. Go get your son,” she repeated, fixing her eyes on his. They were still flat, still fighting so hard to be emotionless. He _wanted_ to stay. She could see that. But his _son_ needed him.

He left with a quiet “be back soon, hon,” and as soon as the lock clicked the tears came.

They were hot, heavy, choking tears that made her ribs hurt with stabbing pain and the barely-sewn-together organs in her gut throb. She didn’t mind them, bending over her legs to sob into her knees while her arms held her chest together like they were the only thing keeping her from flying apart.

Oliver had _lied._ William’s existence didn’t surprise him. He already knew. Had known. William was from Central City, which meant he’d known for _weeks._ His strange behavior during the days before the fight with Vandal Savage finally made sense. Everything made more sense. His evasiveness, his time away “for the campaign” or “visiting a friend” or “getting the loft ready” or whatever else bullshit excuse he’d decided to dump on her that day.

He’d been visiting his son and hadn’t told her about him. Like she was just some fling. Like he hadn’t committed to make her a permanent fixture in his future. Did the ring even mean anything? Did he just propose because her mom had found the ring and she’d confronted him about it? Had he… oh god, had he changed his mind? Had he only stayed with her so long now because he was a decent person who wouldn’t dump his fiancée as soon as she got out of the hospital? Felicity had heard the love in his voice when he spoke to William. Did he want more children? Probably. Felicity always knew Oliver would make an amazing father once he got past his hangups. But… she’d always assumed it would be the two of them, in it together. Now she couldn’t give him that. He’d already gotten it _from someone else._

The door jingled and Felicity shot to her feet, ignoring the pull of her injuries, and went to the kitchen to get water or hot chocolate or whatever else in her limited repertoire of things she could make that a kid might like. She took the time to dry her eyes on Oliver’s huge sweater she was wearing and collect herself. She didn’t want to scare William. It was _him_ she was angry with.

“Honey? I’m back,” Oliver called, his voice so much more tentative than it had ever been saying those words.

She made some loud kitchen noises, banging things around so he knew she was just in there and not gone.

She heard footsteps come around and turned to see Oliver and what looked like a tiny, nine-year-old version of himself. The little boy was looking at her with wide eyes and a hesitant smile. He had on a Flash shirt under a green jacket and an over-stuffed backpack. Above his head, Oliver looked stricken, easily seeing the red-rimmed eyes and damp sweater sleeves.

“Hi, Miss Felicity,” the little boy said, his tone just as hopeful as his eyes. Felicity felt her heart melt. She couldn’t help it. Those eyes looked so much like the ones she loved, and she couldn’t deny this child a little bit of comfort and stability after feeling so much emotion that he’d run away from home. When she’d been feeling like that herself, after her father had left and after Cooper, she wished someone had been there for her.

“Hi, sweetie. Just call me Felicity. Do you want something to drink?” she asked, managing to keep her voice light and not at all sounding like she’d been crying for over half an hour.

William broke into a huge smile, so similar to his father’s that it yanked painfully at Felicity’s heart. He nodded and she got busy making hot chocolate, keeping her thoughts very firmly in the present and not at all with the dreams she’d had of a little girl with glasses and that same smile or a little boy in a green onesie with his eyes.

“You can stay here tonight, William, but you have to call your mom and let her know you’re ok,” Oliver said, his tone gentle and loving but firm. It had only been a few weeks and he already sounded like the perfect father. Felicity bit her lip and put the mug of milk in the microwave. She busied herself with the hot chocolate ingredients while they kept talking.

“But I don’t want to! Mom deserves it. She lied to me! She said my dad was dead!”

“She’s probably so worried about you right now, William. She doesn’t deserve to feel that way, no matter what. And she was just trying to protect you. We haven’t known each other for a long time and she didn’t trust me yet.”

“Or me! I’m _nine._ I don’t need protecting!”

Felicity smiled, just a little. She understood how this kid felt. Not being trusted with the truth was a feeling she was painfully accustomed to.

Oliver sighed. “Your mom was just doing her best. Whether you believe that or not, you have to call her tonight if you’re going to stay here or I’m putting you right back on a train to Central City,” he said firmly.

William sighed, obviously only needing a few weeks with Oliver to understand that tone. But, they hadn’t spent enough time together for William to know that tone could definitely be beaten with a few well-placed comments and big eyes and a bright smile.

Or maybe that was just her.

“Here’s your cocoa, William,” she said, placing it in front of him with a smile.

He returned the expression and took a long sip. “Thanks, Felicity.”

Oliver looked up at her, his expression so hesitant and nervous that she just wanted to reassure him. But she couldn’t. Not this time.

“I’m gonna put him in the guest room. Come on, bud,” Oliver said, putting his hand on William’s back and leading him to the guest room upstairs.

Felicity cleaned up her hot chocolate supplies, very firmly keeping her thoughts to the task. If she was going to have this talk with Oliver, she was going to have to stay very firmly in control of her emotions. It was hard, the emotional hurt coupled with the lingering physical pain from her attack, but she could do it. She’d been through worse. If she could go toe-to-toe with Ra’s al Ghul, she could do this.

She heard Oliver on the stairs. He was letting her prepare for his presence, prepare for this conversation, because he could move soundlessly if he wanted to.

“He’s sweet,” Felicity said, her voice flat because if it had any emotion she would be shouting and she couldn’t shout with a sleeping kid in the loft.

“I swear, Felicity, I wanted to tell you, but – “

“ _But you didn’t,_ ” she said, whirling around to face him, ignoring her protesting, aching body. The island was between them, and Felicity didn’t think she’d ever seen anything more symbolic in her life.

“It doesn’t matter that you _wanted_ to tell me. You _didn’t_. You’ve had weeks and weeks of chances and you kept this massive secret from me!” she whisper-shouted. “It’s the direction of your feet that decides your destination, not which way you want to go.” She might have read that in a fortune cookie from one of her endless boxes of takeout pre-Oliver, but it seemed highly appropriate given the current situation.

Oliver ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Samantha said I couldn’t tell anyone. That if I wanted to see William at all, I had to keep it a secret. He only knows I’m his father at all because he just found out today! He overheard me and Samantha on the phone and put two and two together,” he said, his tone and eyes pleading her to understand.

“So you kept a secret for a woman you haven’t seen in ten years who has _lied to you_ for years about having a child and lied to your fiancée? Your fiancée who’s been keeping your not-so-little green secret for _years?_ I know how to keep a secret, Oliver!”

“ _I know!”_ he insisted, keeping his voice between whispering and shouting. “I know you can, Felicity! I just… He’s my _son._ I had to see him. I didn’t want to lie to you, but…”

Felicity felt everything bubbling up. All the emotions, all the hurt, all the insecurities. “But he’s your son. Your child. Something…” her face crumpled, her eyes hot with tears, “that _we_ can’t have.”

Oliver’s face morphed and he was at her side in an instant, his arms gentle around her as she cried into her hands. One hand was in the middle of her back, the other holding her head to his chest. “Honey, no,” he murmured into her hair, his tone gentle and soothing. “I love you, baby. I love you so much. I don’t care about what the doctors said.”

That just made Felicity cry harder, her glasses uncomfortably pressing into her face but she didn’t care. “Yes you _do._ And so do I. I want that, Oliver. I want that with _you_. And now… Now we _can’t,_ ” she cried, unable to hold back the emotions inside of her as they spilled out of her eyes.

“Shh, baby, it’s ok,” he said, holding her as tight as he dared in deference to her injuries and gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back. “I do want that with you. I _do._ But you’re enough, baby. I’ll always love you, no matter what you think or say or whatever happens. I love you, Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity shook her head, unable to see past the swirling emotions. Everyone leaves. Everyone left her. Why should this be any different? “No, you’re gonna leave me! I know it! You’re gonna leave me because you never got to see William grow up and you want more babies and _we_ can’t have them because of _me_ so you’re just gonna – “

Oliver put his hands firmly on her shoulders and took a small step back, bending down so they were at eye level. He took her hands in his and brought them down, forcing her to look at him. She felt a little ridiculous, sure, but wasn’t she _right?_ She saw the love and wistfulness and want in his eyes when he looked at William. His heart was so big and he had such a capacity for love. It shouldn’t be confined to one child he’d missed for the first nine years of his life.

“Felicity,” he said, his voice firm and solid and it felt like the only thing in the room that Felicity could actually hold on to. “I am _not leaving you._ Ever. Do you understand?”

Felicity just shook her head, the tears pouring out of her eyes in an unstoppable stream. “You’re right, _I_ should just leave. You need to be with William, to be his dad, and I can’t take away from that with all… this. I’ll just go. I’ll stay with John or Thea or – “

Oliver’s grip on her shoulders tightened. It wasn’t painful, but she definitely couldn’t get away. There was a brief flash of fear in his deep blue eyes, but it was replaced by a steely determination that Felicity recognized. “You’re not too much Felicity. You’ll _never_ be _too much_. I made a promise when I put that ring on your finger, and I intend to keep it. I love you and I know you love me. As long as that’s true, no one is _leaving_ ,” he said, squeezing her shoulders once and his deep, serious blue eyes boring into hers.

She sniffled, staring back, taking the moment to truly _look_ at him. He let her, his expression open, letting her see the seriousness of his promise, the love he felt for her, and the determination to make sure she knew it.

That was what broke through the storm of emotions, striking her to the core, and she gasped before collapsing back into Oliver’s chest and crying even harder. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I just…” she couldn’t even get the words out, but she didn’t seem to need to. He always knew.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he said, hugging her again and smiling into her hair and kissing it. “I know, baby. I love you.”

Finally, after a few minutes, Felicity felt all cried out and she sighed into Oliver’s shirt. “We can do this, right?” she asked, looking up at him with big, wet eyes and a tiny, hopeful smile. It was usually her reassuring him, reminding him that they were together now and could get through anything, but she’d been the pillar for so long and now she needed to lean a little and Oliver needed to catch her.

“We can get through anything, Felicity. We made it through last year,” he said, smiling a little bigger and bending to kiss her gently. She closed her eyes and sighed.

She smiled under his lips, her blue eyes dragging back open. “That’s true. I… I will forgive you, Oliver. I love you, but it’ll take time,” she said, her lips thinning into a line as she gazed up at him.

He smiled down at her in his arms, all the love for her and relief in his eyes. “However long you need.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? Angsty enough? Drop a line here or over at my Tumblr @imusuallyobsessed. I love hearing from you guys!


End file.
